


Last Time

by ICantGetADecentName



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, just imagine all recruitable characters are there, not beta-ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICantGetADecentName/pseuds/ICantGetADecentName
Summary: “I don't ever want to let you go,” Felix manages to say before leaning for another kiss. He felt more than saw the upturn of Byleth's lips at that.“Then, we'll make this last forever."
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Last Time

Idiot. That was what he was.

Felix stomped his way up the stairs and through the hallways. Damn it. 

How can he face Byleth tomorrow after that?

At least he remembers to quiet down as he reaches his room before Sylvain decides to confront him about it. He doesn’t need to be told that his cheeks are bright red. If only he wasn’t so pale, then maybe he can hide this embarrassment better.

He catalogs what happened. Felix and Byleth were getting some training in before marching to Enbarr. But between Claude and Seteth’s pile of workload, she usually doesn’t have the time of day. 

Felix would have stopped asking her, she might need rest more than the extra hour of training. Her skills are as refined as it can get, given the circumstances.

If only she didn’t look so carefree as she spun calculated circles around him. If only her footwork as she held that sword wasn’t lighter than when she ran around the monastery. If only he wasn’t secretly obsessed with watching drops of sweat falling on the side of her face. If only he doesn’t mirror her smile as she parried his strikes with her own sword.

And on that one day when he made a point to not ask her to spar, she was the one that seeks him out. He can only concede that yes, she looked more alive in the moonlight of the training grounds than in any office of the monastery. If this was the distraction she needed to clear her head, then he will accept. It’s not like he doesn’t benefit from these interactions after all.

Because really, Felix can't help but savor even the moments where he walks her over to her room. It is on the way to the staircase of the second floor. And if he’s prolonging the time he spends by her side, well, that is getting harder to deny.

He finds himself longing.

He thought they were getting closer. Really, he did. But it hit him that eventually, the war will end. He will have to say goodbye to her. Those nightly spars will be nothing more than a memory. 

Not just the spars, he’ll miss everything. Eating with her, letting her get a bite or two from his extra, spicy plate and offering his glass of water every time. The ever-responsible Byleth refuses to get her own glass despite a heaping plate. Watching her catch a fish and joining her attempt to grill it to perfection. They’ve tried a couple of times and maybe they’ll get it right next time. Joining her for tea, watching her smile as they share a lively conversation and agreeing to another cup even if the last session went bad.

Felix can’t imagine a life without her anymore. He can’t imagine going back to his father nor wondering if and when he has to leave her. Maybe becoming a professor isn't so bad if he can stay by her side. 

He wants to spend the rest of his life with her. But is that really something he can do? Unless...

Too soon they reach the front of her door and Felix has absentmindedly followed her to the entrance. He held his breath as she was about to close the door. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. So, he gently held it open as he pressed his lips to hers.

Maybe it was a second too long, he can’t remember. He can’t remember his heart beating that fast, except amid the most challenging of battles. Or maybe that time when she was wrestling with him and he was flat on his back, Byleth straddling him down.

But Byleth was unmoving and that worried him. He already knew that she had no heartbeat, so that was the end of that. Then, he felt a brush of air against his cheek, where Byleth’s nose was pressed against his face.

And then he remembered Sylvain saying something about not breathing when kissing a girl. Or anybody for that matter.

Felix pulled back.

Byleth’s eyes were wide with shock. Her mouth was partly open as if still registering what happened. 

Then, she bit her lip.

Felix knows that, he’s seen it before. He was there when Hanneman asked to cut a piece of her skin for crest research or when Alois delivered a joke that she clearly didn’t find funny.

She doesn’t want this. Byleth doesn’t want him.

So, he stalked away from there.

Stupid. How can he be so damn stupid?

* * *

He needs to apologize. He doesn’t need Sylvain or Ingrid, or worse Ferdinand, if the oaf ever got wind of this, to tell him so.

It wasn’t because it was proper. Felix doesn’t ever do something because they were proper or whatever, but because she deserves better than that.

Surprisingly, he found her on the training grounds a time after dinner. The one place she wouldn’t go if she were avoiding him.

Maybe she was at least willing to listen to an explanation. He entered the room with a string of rehearsed words.

Byleth was on the far side of the training room, a dummy pulled from the side. Her cloak lay haphazardly folded a couple of feet away. She was practicing her jabs. Two quick punches from her right hand, before sidestepping and delivering a strong punch with her left. With the way her skin glistens in the moonlight, Felix figures she might have been at this for a time. 

Byleth knows he’s watching. He noticed the way her eyes drifted to him before repeating the same maneuver.

What did he come here to say again?

She finished a different set of punches and faced him. She was about to cross her arms but instead placed one at her hip and leaned her weight on that side. 

He’s got all her attention now. 

Suddenly, he’s her student again. A student who just realized that he should have at least read the faith magic book she gave him months ago.

Inappropriate given what he did last night.

Byleth was waiting for him to talk. But whatever he meant to say didn’t seem right right now and he refuses to stutter over his words. Lest she interprets it the wrong way, at least that’s what he says to himself.

“Spar with me?” Byleth asks. There was a hesitation in her voice, if he heard it correctly through the thundering of his heart.

He doesn’t trust his voice to not crack, so he nods.

He’s still figuring out what to do with words.

Byleth studies him for a bit before retrieving two training swords from the rack. Felix stands there and for want to do something, he picks up the training dummy that Byleth has been using and moved it away from the floor.

By the time the dummy is back in its resting place, Byleth is already waiting for him at the center of the room. She throws him one of the swords.

But before he can assume any stance, Byleth has already charged at him.

Usually, they’d circle around each other at each of their training sessions. At least that was how it was after he learned not to charge blindly. Although, it was still Felix who attacks first most of the time.

Today was different. Maybe Byleth has had enough of them circling around each other in the first place. But that attack was what Felix needed to get a grip on himself.

He lets his baser instincts direct him on the defensive. But as he uses his sword to block the blow, he finds his grip, and his position, less than ideal. He needs to retreat and find a way to turn this into his favor.

He didn’t get the chance.

In the next few parries, Felix feels the tip of her training sword against his neck.

“Yield,” Byleth calls.

“I yield.”

Byleth retreats a few paces from him and assumes a defensive stance. It looks like she will let him attack first this time.

There will always be an opening in any attack. But that’s okay, Felix is more comfortable on the offensive. He has his bases covered.

The second duel runs a lot longer. Felix has calmed his mind enough to look for the tells in Byleth. A flick of her wrist or a twist of her ankles tells him her next move. But somehow, he knows that Byleth can read him in the same way, whether it be in the way his eyes flit on her form or in the minute twitches in his arm.

In a way, Felix wishes he can express himself with words the same way he does with a sword. The language of the duel is one he is much more comfortable with.

But soon enough, Byleth manages to push him into a defensive and he loses the second round.

Felix needs to learn to work outside his comfort zone.

“Again,” Felix calls.

As they both ready for the third round, Felix waits for Byleth to attack first.

She gives in and charges towards him.

Byleth feigns right and attacks lightly on the same side. Felix was able to block with the palm of his hand on the face of the sword. The strike on the left is what he needs his sword to parry.

Push and pull. A movement he knows like the back of his hand. He swipes at her and she steps back, readying to parry his next attack.

They were both a flurry of movements, going faster, and faster, and faster.

Then, they were panting. The movements slower than either of them would like. But maybe this is the opening Felix needs.

He needs to learn to work outside his comfort zone.

“I’m sorry if I offended you last night.”

She doesn’t speak but continues to attack him seamlessly.

 _I hope this doesn’t change things between us._ The words are tied in his tongue, it’s not what he wanted to say. But is that what she needed to hear?

Why isn’t Byleth saying anything?

“Professor?”

“Stop calling me that!” Byleth growls.

Byleth was rarely angry, he can count the instances in one hand. Felix will not be shaken by an angry opponent. However, it was the look in her eyes that gave her the opening to disarm him.

It was the same look when Jeralt died. 

But he's not dying. Yes, they are in the middle of a war, but he has no intention of dying anytime soon.

So what is it? 

Usually, disarming the opponent would have ended the round. But Byleth only threw her own training sword and tackled him to the ground.

“I’m no longer anybody’s teacher. So, please, let me be someone else.”

She wasn’t looking at him, she has her head pressed against his chest. Her body lay on top of his.

Felix hopes she can’t hear the thundering of his heart. Or if she does, blame it on the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He tries to pull her away by the shoulders, get a look at her face. But she keeps her head hidden from view, hands fisted on his shirt.

“Byleth,” he calls. With that, her head lifts gently.

Wide eyes stare at him, devoid of the walls that she puts around other people. These aren’t the eyes of the Professor of Garreg Mach, the face of the war, nor the Ashen Demon.

This is just Byleth.

And in her eyes, he saw a mirror of himself.

Which contains too many emotions he has not trained himself to handle.

“I-” he starts, he needs to say something. Felix needs to get this phase over with. They both need to.

He could have said something about falling in love with her, letting her be someone special to him, needing her in his life like the sword he wields in this war.

But instead, he blubbers out, “You bit your lip!”

Great.

“And?” Byleth questions. At least the mirth in her eyes reflect the twitch in her lips.

Does she think this is funny? 

Felix takes a deep breath. As much as Byleth feels nice above him, he just wants to get away for a bit. Like, right now. 

“You only do that when you’re trying to figure out how to reject someone.”

Her face twists in confusion, “I do?”

“Yes!”

“Well, I was trying to figure out how to say I want you, too.”

And that, that makes his brain pause. Can that be it? As simple as Byleth being as tongue-tied as him?

He searches her face. He isn’t going to forgive himself if she’s only doing this for his sake.

But Byleth is searching him too. She breathes slowly, chest rising and falling in time with his. He reaches out a hand to cup her face and she doesn’t hesitate to lean on his palm.

He pulls her in for a kiss. And this time she responds the second their lips touch.

Push and pull. A movement so new and yet so familiar. He tangles his hands in her light green locks and she squeezes his shoulder. 

If you asked him a month ago what a kiss was, he’d say it was just lips meeting each other. He wouldn’t bother differentiating it from mouth to mouth resuscitation. But now, Felix knows it’s more than that. It’s a dance no different from their sparring sessions. A movement of hands, lips, and... He feels Byleth’s tongue tease his lower lip. Tongue, definitely include that in the list.

Felix holds her body closer to his, fearing that loosening his grip would make her slip away. He kisses Byleth with more fervor hoping that she understands what he wants to say, what he really means to her.

Because Felix can get tongue-tied. In the same way that his mind finds it easy to be frank with other people, his heart has deemed words too difficult.

The way her body presses against his is telling him that she can’t get enough of him. The eager but sloppy kisses she gives him is telling him that she’s willing to learn this with him. And her hands clinging unto his shoulder tightly assures him that she wants him to stay.

Maybe Byleth also wants to say the same things to Felix that he hasn’t had the courage to say.

When they both decide to pull away, their eyes linger on each other. It was different this time. No tension, no hidden meanings. Just tenderness. Everything was bare for the other to see.

Finally, Byleth collapses again on top of him. Gently resting her head on his shoulder.

He can feel her slowly tugging on his collar. He can feel the patches of liberated skin tingling under hand as he lets her. Byleth’s fingers dance against his neck until she rests the tips just below his jawline.

In this position, he feels her breath fanning his cheek. He couldn’t resist nuzzling his head as they find a way to cuddle closer.

If this is what it feels like to be in love, then Felix has nothing more to ask.

* * *

He thought they’d be done at Enbarr, really he did.

But before any of them knew it, Shambhala happened and now the reanimated corpses of everybody’s ancestors and then some are on their way to seek revenge.

Claude tried to explain it during the war meeting but it’s clear that even the “Master Tactician” is having trouble wrapping it around his own head. Seteth and Flayn staying quiet the whole time is not helping matters.

Nor the fact that Byleth isn’t in the room.

Felix finds her in the cemetery, kneeling at the grave of her father. With the way her knuckles have whitened, it seems like she wasn’t ready to let go even after five years. He reminds himself that her being in deep sleep meant that she wasn’t given five years to cope with Jeralt’s death. To Byleth, her father died less than a year ago.

Not like time dulls the pain from his experience.

So, instead of watching her hands clench and unclench on the ground or the movement of her lips as she whispers to the dead. He turns around and stands guard. He’ll at least give her this time to be a daughter.

Felix sat himself at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing. If he received weird looks from the passersby, he couldn’t care less.

They still hadn’t talked about what would happen to their relationship after the war. Peace seems like an impossibility when all you could remember is the horrors of fighting. Though, Felix supposes that they aren’t much for planning anyway. As long as they have each other, he’ll challenge St. Seiros herself for the chance of spending a minute more with her.

The sun was almost about to set when he hears footsteps from behind him. He waits for Byleth to pull on his arm before he faces her.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Don’t mind it.” They start walking.

“Where are we going?” Byleth asks. 

“The dining hall, I thought you’d be hungry by now.”

“I thought you wanted to spar or something.” There’s a skip to her steps and Felix lets out a shy smile.

“Maybe after.”

“Sounds like a plan as any.”

Dinner went as usual, or as usual as it can get. Claude was the first to join at their table, but then the rest of the old class invite themselves in. Somehow, Sylvain ended up between Felix and Byleth. The red head was giving him a suggestive look while flirting with Dorothea across the table. Ingrid sat on his other side and was always reaching over to smack Sylvain upside the head or something while her mouth was full of food. Ignatz ate half of his food before surrendering his leftovers to Leonie and Raphael. Hilda was gushing about a new accessory she made, proudly stated that it was for Marianne. Lorenz and Ferdinand were discussing about different types of tea and which sweets would better compliment them. Felix noticed a glare from Ferdinand to Sylvain as the whole table heard a “special” invitation to Dorothea, only cut when Caspar (loudly) and Ashe (not as loud) ran after a cat that presumably came from the kitchen.

And Felix thought dinner would be a quiet affair.

He doesn’t think much about it. Byleth looks alive with this crowd. The ones they saved from the war and the ones that stayed with them.

Felix tries to finish his food despite the chaos around him. There were quiet moments when he finds Byleth glancing at him, but maybe the world just silences when they find themselves trapped in each other.

Byleth finished her food sooner than him, despite the heaping plate she picked up from the serving table. He kind of expected that. But maybe, he was also expecting her to wait for him or something.

Instead, she squeezes his shoulder before she leaves the room. Leaving him at the mercy of Sylvain, his self-appointed best friend. Sometimes, he wonders if he was sane when he became friends with this insufferable fool.

It doesn’t take long for Felix to follow Byleth to the training grounds.

She sat on the curb. Her head is down, she was eyeing something resting in her fingertips. Felix can spot the small object glinting in the moonlight.

He didn’t need to announce his presence. She senses him walking towards her, if the roll in her shoulders is any indication.

He was at the center of the training grounds when Byleth rose and met him. Her steps were calculated not unlike the way she approaches an opponent. Felix might have been anticipated a surprise attack, as she was ought to do, if not for the delicate way her fist is closed. Byleth takes a deep inhale in front of Felix and he feels his own trapped in his throat. She looks absolutely breath-taking under the moonlight.

She reaches for his hands, hands that he thought would never hold anything but a sword. Her hands are small, petite, but her grip is strong. He can feel the tiny piece of metal pressed between their fingers.

“Felix,” she starts. Light green eyes looking, no, capturing his.

He waits for her to continue, but time seems to stand still with just the two of them there.

“After the war...” she breathes in and he finds himself waiting for her chest to relax back down. It doesn’t. Her mouth opens and closes but she wouldn’t let out another word.

“After the war is peace,” Felix continues, “Everyone may go their own separate ways, but if you think you can get rid of me that easily, then think again.”

Byleth lets out a sound, a cross between a laugh and a sob. Felix wonders if he offended her but there is relief in the way she smiles. The hug she encases him in makes him stumble at the suddenness of it, but he returns the embrace, wrapping her in his arms tighter.

The hug would have been longer had it been up to Felix, Byleth pulls away too soon. Her lips are tilted upward just a bit but her eyes are over flowing with joy.

“Here,” she says handing him the small object she had with her.

It was a ring, looks to be silver. The centerpiece is a flower made of purple crystals. The multitude of gems is not his style, but he’ll take it nonetheless. Though, he fears the frequent use of his hands would chip or destroy the ring.

“Are you sure?” The craftsmanship in this tiny jewelry is amazing and must have cost her a lot of gold.

“It was my mother’s ring. I’d like you to have it.”

He still must have looked hesitant because her face falls as he continues to examine the ring in his hand.

“Do you not want it?” Byleth asks.

He fumbles for words and turns it around in his fingers. It barely fits his little finger.

“Oh,” her face falls even further and he could see her shoulders slumping from the corner of his eyes.

“Wait,” he pulls out a chain from his pocket and inserts the ring inside.

Byleth’s eyes brighten as Felix dangles the ring from the chain. He fumbles with getting it clasped behind his neck when Byleth offers.

She stands on her tiptoes and he finds his hands around her waist. If anybody were to say that Felix ears were red during the encounter, he’d outright deny it. But it would have been hard to fool the woman whose exhales he can feel against his ear.

When Byleth stands back down to her regular height, she gingerly places the ring at the center of his chest. Felix couldn’t resist lunging in for a kiss at her pleased expression.

“I don't ever want to let you go,” Felix manages to say before leaning for another kiss. He felt more than saw the upturn of Byleth's lips at that. 

“Then, we'll make this last forever."

To say that they didn’t get much training done after that was an understatement.

It wasn’t until later that night when she was sleeping in his arms, head pressed against his chest that he realized the ring might have been more than just a gift. She might have been asking him to stay with her and he completely missed the point.

Felix fiddles with the ring hanging on his neck and wonders if another ring can seal the promise between them.

* * *

Felix swiped the sweat from his brow and discarded the broken sword to the ground. It wouldn’t do to have more weight than he needs. The Aegis shield is heavy enough on his back. Besides, Byleth has provided him an extra before the battle with the risen heroes.

He trekked through the mud, approaching Claude and his battalion as they distracted Nemesis. He, Dorothea, and Raphael has just defeated the reanimated Riegan before his comrades decided to split up and join the other groups. Nemesis’ shield is still up. Ignatz and Lorenz are still fighting the first Charon while Ingrid and Leonie are engaged with Felix’ ancestor. They are going to need more reinforcements before they engage the leader of the group. He was running towards Nemesis when he heard Claude’s bow break. The Alliance leader was in the middle of notching a second arrow when the brave bow snapped in two. Disoriented by the broken weapon, Claude’s wyvern wavered in the air.

Felix stopped running. He moved his hands in a circle in front of him and summoned a Thoron spell. His magic is not that strong, but his aim is precise. Still the attack dissipated at Nemesis’ shield, a few feet from his face.

This gave time for Claude to drop the broken bow and soothe the disgruntled wyvern. But now, Felix was Nemesis’ target.

Felix is too far to see any small tells in the swordfighter, but he must make do. He would have preferred to be nearer but, like Byleth’s relic, the sword Nemesis held glowed and whipped around ready to hit him.

Except it didn’t reach its mark.

Felix only heard the whistle of the air as a pegasus flew past his head. Byleth dropped from the animal, whipping her sword to distract Nemesis as Petra redirected the lash elsewhere.

Nemesis looks disgruntled enough that Byleth manages to instruct them to surround the enemy. Petra positions herself beside Claude and Felix moves to stand beside Byleth.

“Ferdinand and Sylvain are on their way, but this swamp isn’t making it easy for the horses,” Byleth says.

“Do we wait for them?” Felix asks.

Across the battlefield, Petra and Claude are backing away from Nemesis’ attack range but keeping close enough to hear Byleth and attack when directed.

Claude picks up Failnought from the side of his wyvern, but it looks like the weapon only has a few more shots left on it. And even from his distance, he could see blood flowing from Petra’s forehead.

“I don’t think we can,” Byleth answers. Felix notices that her sword was just about ready to break.

“How is your battalion?” Byleth asks.

“I think we still have one more attack,” he answers looking back at his soldiers. They’re tired and half the number compared to when they started but he can tell he’s right about them having one more push. Except, “but given their state it would be a miracle if we can actually hit him.”

Byleth bites her lip. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she absentmindedly twists the sword in her hands. The Sword of the Creator glows brightly in her hands.

Then, Nemesis starts talking.

“That sword... You bear the Crest of Flames, just as I do.”

Byleth’s brow unfurrows, her eyes brighten but she keeps the grimace on her lips.

“Oh, this one,” she replies a little too loudly, garnering the attention of their two comrades behind Nemesis. “Didn’t think too much on it. But you already have one, this is mine.”

She releases one hand from the grip and uses her other hand to motion at Claude. Her four fingers are closed together as her hand closes to let her thumb touch the rest of her fingertips, she repeats this motion a few times. Her eyes flicking from Nemesis and Claude.

There is an incredulous look in Claude’s face for a moment. Byleth tilts her head to the direction of Nemesis and Claude grins with an understanding.

Felix still doesn’t get it. He trusts this plan though, whatever it is.

Claude starts talking.

“Hey, big guy! Mind giving us some tips on how to liberate Fodlan?”

Felix stares in awe. This is their big plan?

But it doesn’t take long for Nemesis to reply.

And when Claude hit a nerve that made it look like Nemesis is about to attack him, Byleth joins in the conversation. Petra had time to take two vulneraries before she says something here and there.

They just banter. Byleth has relaxed from her defensive stance, her sword planted on the ground as she leaned on it. Felix keeps quiet beside her and drops his sword from its position in front of his face, he doesn’t know what else to add to this and it feels like anything that will come out of his mouth is only going to enrage Nemesis.

They talk about revenge, how Nemesis wants to kill Seiros for stopping him. They talk about how he was promised glory by killing the children of the goddess. Nemesis insults Claude and Byleth but they both take it in stride. Claude even found the audacity to ask if there was a Mrs. Nemesis, or if he hooked up with Lamine or Fraldarius, maybe even the men?

C’mon, Claude! Fraldarius was his friggin’ ancestor. If Nemesis hooked up with her then that might mean... he doesn’t want to think about it.

The rest would have bored Felix; except he can notice the death grip Byleth has on her sword and knows that this is a fight just as any.

They just need time.

Soon enough, he hears a triumphant yell in the distance and the shield around Nemesis falls.

Finally, at the sight of the shield dissolving, Felix assumes a defensive stance with the rest of them. He watches as Byleth eye’s flit from Nemesis to their comrades. She’s probably calculating if they can handle him on their own or if they need time for the others to arrive.

Nemesis positions his sword and smiles at Byleth.

“Cowards, all of you. If you can’t manage to fight me one on one, then you are as good as dead. I’ll kill all of you: shield or no shield. Seiros will pay.”

From behind Nemesis, Felix can see that Petra and Claude have taken back to the air and are waiting for Byleth’s signal to attack.

“We need reinforcements,” Byleth says there was more sweat pooling on her brows than a second ago.

“I can try to hit him with my men,” Felix suggests.

“It’s not going to land,” she replies, “and even if it did, you won’t be making enough damage. He’ll only kill you.”

“Claude or Petra can try to hit and run,” Byleth murmurs.

Her right arm starts to raise but then she immediately pulls it down. Her brow furrows and she shakes her sword once.

“They are both agile fighters, they’ll be able to avoid him.” Felix whispers.

“That’s the thing, they don’t.” Byleth answers looking at him. He can hear Claude trying to engage Nemesis in a conversation, but it doesn’t look like it’s working. “They both die.”

Byleth bites her lip, then squeezes his arm.

“Felix, leave the shield here then hit twice as fast as you can.” Byleth instructs.

Felix was getting ready to attack, waiting for the hand on his arm to let go. But she doesn’t.

“Wait!” Byleth exclaims while the grip on Felix’ arm only gets tighter.

This is getting tiring. She was never this indecisive. He was about to glare at her when he saw her expression.

Her stance has changed. She reaches out to hold him with her other hand, pressing the hilt of her sword into his arm in the process. Tears are freely falling from her eyes now. She shakes her head twice.

“No,” Byleth says. She pounds a fist to her chest once and stands straighter. “Hold on to it. We need to try something else.”

She bit her lip as he nodded. What happened? What was going on inside her head? She just spat out three go-to strategies and rejected them before she could try it out. How does she know they won’t work when they’ve worked before? 

But in battle, if you take too long to strike, the decisions will be made for you.

And that is exactly what happened.

Felix heard warhorses running through mud. Reinforcements are coming. But Nemesis can see the cavalry coming and he takes the time to strike at the two fliers across them.

He takes a second to assess Byleth, the way her feet are positioned means that the opening she’s waiting is after Nemesis has made an attack. Claude and Petra are their most agile fighters. They should be able to avoid Nemesis and maybe inflict some damage on the counterattack. Felix will follow through after Byleth.

Then, her stance shifted again. Her eyes widened and her jaw went slack.

“No,” she murmured. Then, she took one glance at her sword and shouted, “strike him first.”

Her voice was loud and clear, the directive for everyone within earshot. But her eyes were trained on him before she ran.

As Byleth ran, Nemesis turned around, his whipped sword following his line of sight. Byleth was able to dodge his attack, she countered and thrusted forward.

It happened so fast.

He was running before he knew it. His eyes were trained to Byleth and Nemesis. A horse and his rider were directly behind him. Two sets of wing beats were getting louder.

Byleth was able to graze Nemesis side, but the sword broke. The glowing subsided and Felix could clearly see her muscles straining under the dead weight.

But they were too late, Nemesis has already plunged his sword into Byleth’s chest.

Byleth dropped the sword she held to secure a grip on the one in her chest. The Dark replica of the Sword of the Creator glowed brighter. A triumphant grin graced her tired face as she watched Nemesis struggle to remove her from the sword.

Felix doesn’t know if the squelching sounds he was hearing was from their footsteps on the mud or the sword in her chest.

He felt light-headed but the adrenaline in his veins was keeping him from missing the opportunity presented to him.

Next thing he knew, there were two arrows, two swords and one lance embedded into Nemesis.

And as Nemesis dissipated into the wind, “What can I say-” Byleth coughed and grunted as the dark sword disappeared with its wielder “-the power of friendship.”

She was still smiling when Felix caught her in his arms.

She’s starting to pale. He’s not sure, his eyesight is getting blurry. But she has his attention. People are starting to crowd them.

The ground is muddy. Can he lay her on the ground?

He hears wings flapping. Good, someone is going to get help. He still needs a bandage. He needs to free his hands.

Ferdinand, the rider fast enough to reach them, lay his cape on the ground.

Felix was about to tear a piece of his own cloak when he noticed it was muddy. He cursed as he pulled at the shirt he wore underneath and pressed it onto her wound.

“Felix,” Byleth calls.

“If it’s too much,” Felix watches as Byleth’s eyes begin to dim, “then deal with it.”

“One last kiss?” Byleth whispers, pulling on his arm. Her upturned lips in a weak smile.

“No,” Felix doesn’t know if it’s the darkening sky, but he could have sworn her eyes and hair are getting darker. “You said we would last but how come it's the last time?”

“I tried-” there was a hitch in her breath “-I really did. I'm ...”

He pressed his lips against her. She shouldn't feel the need to apologize, not to him. Goddess damn it, never to him.

“Hold me?” she requests as she holds on to his arm.

Felix gives in to her request. Pulling her to lean on his chest, the wound on her back is pressed against his left arm as he uses his right hand to apply pressure on the wound.

She’s shivering but she’s still breathing. He counts her breaths, trying to not think about the blood seeping through his coat and pants.

Finally, he hears the flap of wings and somebody dismounts even before the wyvern lands on the wet mud.

“Mercedes!”

He loses his grip on her to let the mage work her magic. A glow of light green pulses from her hands, and Felix watches as the skin nits itself together. 

The glowing starts to dim and Mercedes grunts. The mage repositions her knees before restarting the spell. But Byleth holds a hand up to Mercedes wrist. Byleth shares a look with Mercedes before the corners of her mouth turn up. 

The magic dies down and Byleth pats Mercedes arm twice. The hole in her chest is still open.

“Why are you stopping?!” Felix regrets shouting at her immediately, “That can’t be it.”

“I can't,” Mercedes whispers.

“Yes, you can. Save her!”

“I can’t! She’s lost too much blood; I don’t have enough magic.” Mercedes sobs. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Too late, she was too late. If only she was there faster. If only he fuckin’ learned how to heal.

Her other hand grasps his chest. He can feel the tug of the chain where the ring she gave him hangs underneath his shirt. Her grip is tight, yet he can feel it loosening.

“Byleth,” Felix starts. He swallows trying to will his tongue to form the words.

He pushes a clump of hair away from her eyes, eyes that returned to its darker blue shade. Her hair has also returned to its original dark teal. The hand on his chest renews its grip.

“I wanted to give you something.” He reaches for the pouch in his pocket. With her balanced on his left arm, he can only maneuver using his right. His hand shakes as he fumbles with the lace that ties it closed.

When he finally got it to loosen, enough for the contents to slip out. It falls to the ground.

“Damn it!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Byleth rasps.

“No, it’s not. I’ve got to...”

Felix starts to reach out, but he must have tousled Byleth. She winces.

He starts stuttering again. He wants to say something, but what? She doesn’t have enough time. They never had the time.

A soft hand tugs at his free hand. 

Felix looks up to see Dorothea kneeling in front of him. Her hands are dirty with wet mud. She doesn’t say anything, or maybe she can’t. Her mouth opens but no sound comes. Instead, she pulls out the glove from his hand and places the ring on top of his palm. She closes his hand shut.

Felix nods once and Dorothea moves away. He places the ring on top of Byleth’s hand, daring himself to just slip it on her finger. He just got this ring from the jeweler before Nemesis was spotted at the Caledonian Plateau.

“What’s this?” she says, eyes teasing him.

“You know what it is.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“What’s the point? I... you...” he musters the words before she starts apologizing again. He settles the words he wishes he could say in better circumstances. “I love you. Let’s get married and spend the rest of our lives together until we die.” He ducks his head forward and pulls her closer. He can still feel her soft exhales against his cheek.

“Felix...”

“This is enough.” It’s not. How can it be? “Please say, yes.”

“I accept, and I love you, too.”

He slips the ring on her finger and kisses her. He pulls away only to rest her head against his shoulder. He doesn’t want to watch the light leave her eyes, not now, not yet, not ever. He embraces her closer, maybe hoping that he can keep her from slipping from him if he holds on to her tight enough.

Felix feels Byleth’s last breath beneath his jaw, just at the top of his collar.

That’s it. He can feel his heart breaking and he doesn’t bother to pick up the pieces. Not anymore. The war is over. 

Everything was a blur from then. It was a feminine voice that cried first. There was a weight on his shoulder, a hand maybe? Sylvain was following on his horse when Claude fetched Mercedes. The wailings sound like Hilda or maybe that was Marianne, he's not so sure. Seteth tried to take Byleth from him, he remembers growling at him. Ingrid tried to talk to him, he couldn't understand her.

In the end, Felix wouldn't let anyone else carry Byleth back to Garreg Mach. He felt her body grow colder on the way back. He followed the flow of the crowd until he finds himself at the monastery’s entrance. Only when he felt the world swaying underneath his feet, did he trust his best friend with her body.

As soon as her weight left his arms, the world went black.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic for this site hahaha. Am I doing the tags right? Go easy on me, I guess? Oh well, criticism where it's due :) 
> 
> Sorry if the characters seem a little too OOC :P
> 
> BTW, this fanfic was inspired by The Script's " The Last Time"
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you have a nice day <3


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